Wendy's Woes
by Quiet Solitude
Summary: Robbie stumbles upon Wendy fighting with her dad. He decides to take her out for a night of fun. Focuses more on what Robbie means to Wendy rather than what Wendy means to Robbie. I just kind of wanted to write a really sweet story about how these two interact with one another.


Robbie heard the shouts over the wailing of the guitar on his radio before he even pulled into her driveway. He cast a nervous glance at the otherwise still house, debating whether or not to make a U-turn and speed away unnoticed. _No, not yet. She might need you_. Rolling his eyes at the little voice in his head that must be his conscience, he parked the car, rolling down the windows to catch any bit of a breeze…and to better hear.

"You never listen to anything I say! I don't _want_ to go; that isn't what I want to do with my life!" Wendy's voice, high and cracked, sliced through the air. Robbie cringed; he had only heard that tone once or twice before, only when she knew she held little power over the situation.

"Logging camp's where I learned my trade, and it's time you learned something, too! You can't spend your life running who-knows-where with those 'friends' of yours! Logging camp's where I learned to fend for myself, where I became a MAN!" enraged shouts from her father burst forth, gruff and demanding, dripping with resolute stubbornness. Robbie sighed; he knew "Manly Dan" was past listening to anything at this point.

"Well, it may have escaped your notice—and I wouldn't be surprised if it had—but I'm. Not. A man!"

"God knows I've noticed! No man would have such UNJUSTIFIED MOOD SWINGS!"

"That's because men can't process more than one emotion at a time, and usually it's HUNGRY!"

An incomprehensible roar erupted from the house. Robbie cringed, trying to sink into the worn seat of his van as he heard the door swing open, then slam once more into place. Risking a glance towards the house, he watched as Dan stomped down the steps in a rage, then turned into the woods, punching a giant pine as he went. He seemed oblivious to the van parked in his driveway; Robbie supposed he hadn't even realized it was there.

Wendy followed a moment later, gripping the porch rail and scrunching up her face. Noticing a potted plant placed innocently nearby, she pushed it from its perch, letting out a cry of anger and disgust as it tumbled to its doom. Robbie watched, his heart breaking with the clay pot, as she paced with agitation around the porch a few times, then plopped down on the steps in exhaustion. Her face disappeared behind a veil of long red hair.

Robbie's hand shot to the door handle in response, wanting to be close to her, to console her as best he could. The crunch of gravel beneath his feet seemed uncommonly loud, but she didn't seem to notice his presence until he stood in front of her and said cautiously, "Wendy?"

Looking up in tired surprise, she swiped at a few tears that had escaped her usually cheery eyes. "Robbie? What're you...what're you doing here?"

"I came to see if you wanted to hang out, but I guess…um," he stumbled over his words, unsure of what to do. "Wendy, are…are you okay?" Sitting down, he pulled her close, hoping this would help. Usually strong and full of energy, it frightened him when she leaned so heavily on his shoulder, exhausted and sniffling.

"Well, to be honest, no, I'm not doing too hot," she sighed, dropping even further into his embrace. "Dad keeps going on about this _stupid_ logging camp, and it's driving me up the wall! He just doesn't get that I'm not the person he always wanted me to be. He wants me to stay here in Oregon for the rest of my life, chopping trees and…and doing nothing else! What kind of life is that?" She spat the last words out with vengeance, jerking from Robbie's gentle hold to lash out at another potted plant sitting on the steps. The crash seemed to subdue her, though, and she sank back into his arms. "I just…I just wish he'd accept that what I want for myself isn't wrong. He thinks I'm crazy for wanting something different. For wanting to stay here just long enough to earn some money and _then_ to leave. _Then_ to get out. He wants me to start figuring out my future, but…but I _know_ my future's not here."

Robbie brushed her hair from her forehead, kissing it lightly. "You're not crazy, babe. You're perfect. Besides," he added, changing his tone from soft to playful, "no offense, but your dad isn't really the sharpest tool in the shed. For all we know, he might think you'd fall off the face of the earth if you set foot out of Oregon."

Wendy laughed softly at the joke, nestling even closer to him. The two sat in silence for a while, listening to the birds chirping and the wind rustling through the trees. Robbie wished he could make it better, wished he could give her the escape she so desperately needed. But maybe… "Hey," he said suddenly, breaking the tranquility of the scene. "You wanna get out of here tonight?" I know a great place about an hour's drive from here; it's got music and beer and good people. We could go if you want, and just listen to music all night."

Sitting up, Wendy smiled and brushed the last few tears from her face. "I'd like that," she said. "Let me go grab a clean shirt."

. . .

Two hours later, Robbie and Wendy were sitting in the back of an overcrowded, smelly bar, sipping on beers the bartender had given them. Robbie's uncle owned the place and bartended himself, allowing Robbie to drink freely if he promised only to do it under his supervision. Naturally, Robbie had taken him up on the offer. He had always been close with this uncle; in fact, this dingy hole-in-the-wall place was where he had begun singing and playing guitar. He smiled, thinking back to those first few nerve-wracking performances on open-mic nights, armed only with a banged-up acoustic guitar, and how intoxicating it had been to play a song flawlessly in front of others. _Even if they were too incoherent to remember_ , the voice inside his head joked.

Casting a glance over to Wendy, he smiled even wider. All the woes from earlier in the day seemed to have melted from her face; she swayed in time to the guitar in the background, wearing a tiny, content grin.

"Better than Gravity Falls?" Robbie asked, playfully nudging her booted foot with his.

"So much better," she replied, her eyes glittering. "This place is great!"

The night wore on pleasantly. Many people got up to perform, some dressed in full leather and screaming vengeful lyrics to the crowd, others in worn flannel who simply picked an acoustic guitar. Robbie and Wendy both hooted and applauded with astonishment when a small, petite girl in a pink, frilly dress climbed onstage and began shredding a Les Paul.

"Whoa, I did NOT see that coming!" Wendy shouted over the roar of the crowd. Robbie nodded in agreement, cheering as the girl walked off the stage, smiling in embarrassed satisfaction.

After casually sharing a basket of fries and nursing another beer each, the two decided to head out. The place was closing soon, and no one sober enough to carry a tune seemed to be singing, anyway. As the two climbed in the van, Robbie heard a little sigh escape from Wendy's lips. Looking over, he saw that she smiled tenderly, but looked down at her lap. A content, yet somber, smile. "What's wrong, babe?" Robbie coaxed.

"It's just…thanks, Robbie." Wendy played with a strand of hair that always stuck out at an odd angle, twisting it absentmindedly between her fingers. "This was such a great, laid-back night, and I just don't want it to end."

"Well, I mean…" Robbie hesitated, tussling his hair nervously. "The night doesn't have to be over yet." Smiling, he turned the key.

. . .

They sat on the edge of a lonely cliff, sharing a blanket to ward off the chill of the night. No streetlights, car horns, or unpleasant wafts of town air polluted this place; they only saw light from the stars, heard the chirp of crickets, and breathed in the crisp air. Robbie vaguely acknowledged that they hadn't spoken to one another in about twenty minutes, but it was a contented silence rather than an awkward one. It seemed to speak volumes more than any words he could muster, and he felt as if he could sit snuggled by her body for eternity.

Seized by some uncharacteristic impulse to express how happy she made him, how wonderfully his life had improved since she entered it, how utterly intoxicating her presence was, Robbie suddenly turned and pressed his lips to hers. She tensed slightly—surprised by the gesture—but soon responded to the touch, moving her lips against his.

"What was that for?" she asked curiously when they separated, a crooked smile displayed below her wide eyes, full of life and laughter and energy. _They're brighter than the stars_ , Robbie thought.

Her eyes always had a way of rendering him awkward and speechless, and this time was no exception. He shifted his weight a bit, looking at his lap and hoping the darkness of the night covered his blush. "I…well, um…" _Fuck it, just say what you've wanted to say all evening_. "You make me so happy, Wendy. And I uh…I'm glad I could help you escape the bad times tonight like you help me every day."

Cautiously looking up from his lap, Robbie saw Wendy smiling gently at him, shaking her head. "You're just a dorky romantic, dude." Her tone was playful, and—rather than feeling embarrassed—Robbie found himself chuckling back.

"Yeah, I guess I am. Just give me a few minutes, and I'll be back to my old 'don't-give-a-shit' attitude."

Wendy moved closer, the mood in her eyes changing. Instead of excited and easy-going sparks, they now gleamed deeply with intensity; Robbie imagined that those eyes reached all the way to her soul. "Don't switch back just yet," she murmured.

Reaching out a hand to turn his shoulder towards her, she pressed her lips against his, moving them, exploring. Robbie felt himself sink into the softness, then felt his heart nearly leap out of his chest as her tongue slipped into his mouth, tasting, feeling, sensing. Vaguely remembering that he had hands, Robbie slipped one around her hips, slowly rubbing the other up and down her thigh. He barely registered that she had moved from his mouth to his neck, planting kisses just under his earlobe. Her breathing seemed to echo in his ear, making all his nerves tingle in anticipation. He seemed to feel every kiss, every gentle bite, and…was that a hand under his hoodie? And how had his own hand slipped from her thigh to just under her breast?

Their lips found the others' once more, and soon the two were lying on the ground, Robbie exploring chest and hips and stomach, Wendy caressing his hair with one hand and working her other down his side. Feeling everything and nothing all at once, the voice in Robbie's head screamed out, _I'm going insane! I'm going insane, and I'm okay with it!_ And suddenly her hips rolled against his, and he knew she could feel the bulge beneath his pants, and their kisses became even more intense as they clung to one another for dear life…

As if on cue, both pulled back simultaneously. Robbie sat up anxiously, both excited and terrified at what had just about happened. As much as he wished it could have continued, he knew that it was a boundary they both had to cross together, and he wasn't sure she was ready. To be honest, he didn't know if _he_ was ready.

Stealing a glance at Wendy, he saw her straightening her shirt, cautiously avoiding his eyes and wearing an embarrassed smile. Then she looked warily up at him and they both chuckled, silently communicating that each was okay and that stopping was probably best.

"Damn these stars," Wendy said, pushing a strand of hair out of her eyes. "They do things to you."

Robbie smiled, running a hand through his hair. "Yeah, weird." Suddenly he was extremely sleepy, wanting nothing more than to slip into a quiet, peaceful slumber.

Wendy must have heard him yawn because she got up, rifled through his van for a moment, and came back with another worn blanket and a backpack. "Wanna have a camp-out?" she asked cheerily.

In response, Robbie lay one blanket on the ground, stretching out on it and using the backpack as a pillow. Wendy cuddled up beside him, laying her head on his chest and wrapping the blanket gently around them both. Already the silent wisps of sleep had begun to cloud his mind when he heard Wendy say, almost in a dream-like whisper, "Robbie?"

"Mmm?"

"You never performed tonight, not at the bar. I was hoping you would. Can you…can you sing me something now?"

Robbie felt himself smile, then leaned over to kiss her forehead. "Sure, babe. Anything for you." Then, rousing himself just enough to remember the lyrics, he sang the first song that popped into his mind.

 _I'm not gonna waste this,_

 _This opportunity's mine._

 _I'm sick of complaining_

 _About a beautiful life._

 _How did we get here?_

 _Did we forget all the things inside?_

 _And how do we stay here?_

 _Do we embrace all the things denied?_

 _I feel so alive tonight._

 _You got me feeling sublime._

 _I want to yell it from the rooftops down_

 _Until it's over, and we're older._

He sung the lyrics slowly, much different from the screaming metal he was used to wailing. Feeling her breathe slowly and evenly on his chest, he lowered his voice further, singing the next verse more to himself than to the free spirit he held in his arms.

 _For my entertainment_

 _You tell a whimsical lie._

 _To keep me complacent_

 _You knock me down with a smile._

 _How did we get here?_

 _How do we pretend everything's alright?_

 _And how do we stay here?_

 _Do we erase all the fear inside?_

 _I feel so alive tonight._

 _You got me feeling sublime._

 _I want to yell it from the rooftops down_

 _Until it's over, and we're older._

"I promise, Wendy," he whispered, kissing her forehead once more. "I promise we'll escape. One day we'll run away from it all, and never look back."


End file.
